The Fate of the World: Bloons
by TheArkFireCorporation
Summary: Balloons- we think of them as the rubbery mascots of parties, fun, and children. We chuckle gleefully as we see everybody in its vicinity jump with fright as it pops. Not bloons, though. Equipped with weapons of technology we can't comprehend, they could end the world as we know it. In the year 2081, in a post apocalyptic world, 13-year old Selo finds out that they may return.
1. Chapter 0: The Introduction

**Chapter 0: The Introduction**

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on the "Bloons Tower Defense" series, which was developed by the site "Ninja Kiwi." All credit for the game concept goes to them, and I absolutely do not intend to infringe any of their copyright rights.

**Author's Note:** Why, hello. Welcome to this little piece of literature of mine. Sure, there will be more to come. So sit back, buckle your seatbelts (in the case of an automobile), and get some nice, buttery popcorn.

For those you are astute, you will see that so far, my author's note has been absolutely none of use. And since I'm not a malicious troll sitting under the even wooden planking of a bridge, I will give you a debriefing of the story, as it always does on the back of most books. However, this will be quite long, so please bear with me.

When you think of balloons, what do you usually think of- parties and games? The gleeful squealing of children? A big, startling pop? Or maybe, just maybe, you think of that little sad dot, floating away, smaller and smaller, but you're still just straining- oh, just straining- to see it, until it's just a little speck- like the grains of crackers and croissants you sweep off the floor.

In this post apocalyptic world, balloons do not exist. Imagine a balloon- except with a killer instinct, invisible eyes seeking its target like missile-guided rockets, and a big, bad brain. Now, think about a hundred of them, or a big malevolent blimp flying overhead, causing an amoeba of innocent people to cringe in fear. These mutated balloons are called bloons.

When the Yellowstone supervolcano erupted, the world as we know it hunkered down in sheer horror, awaiting the gases snaking up towards the atmosphere to cause an Ice Age. Scientists, their knuckles as white as snow from gripping their instruments were getting strange readings, however. Nothing was registering. Simultaneously, the bewildered whizzes raced towards Yellowstone National Park to investigate. The volcano hadn't belched lava, nor did it emit smoke like a super-powered showerhead. It was the most anticlimactic moment in history- or that's what they thought. The volcano emitted one red balloon (or bloon, as we call it now). One. One bloon, which was enough to change the entire course of history.

You know what? I'm going to leave you hanging here. Please enjoy the story that ensues. Feel free to review if you enjoyed the concept, or you would like to give some constructive criticism. All feedback will be appreciated!


	2. Chapter 1: Clash of the Parents

**Chapter 1: Clash of the Parents**

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on the "Bloons Tower Defense" series, which was developed by the site "Ninja Kiwi."All credit for the game goes to them, and I absolutely do not intend to infringe any of their copyright rights.

Selo Olson eagerly hopped up and down, surveying the desolated land- charred trees, bits of debris everywhere, smoke spewing out of a pipe a mile or so off in the distance. "Isn't this amazing, dad? These are remains of the technological advanced world that people used to live in!" Selo squealed, his emerald eyes gleaming. There was no answer, not even a mutter, from behind him.

Selo swiveled around in distaste. Yes, his father, Graham was there, with his trademark salt and pepper hair (unlike Selo's muddy brown mane, which he got from his mother) and short and stocky build. But he wasn't paying attention- he was only conversing with his business partner, Robert. Out of desperation to get his father's attention, Selo tried to glare his father down, but to no avail.

Out of options, Selo bellowed, "DAD!"

Graham seemed to snap out of his trance. "Uh, yes son?" he uttered.

A sigh escaped Selo's mouth. He would have to start over. "Isn't this WAY cool. It's the ruins of the modern world, back in the, oh, maybe the forties?" even though it was his second time explaining how utterly remarkable this ruin was, the words still tumbled out of his mouth. He was overflowing with excitement!

"Yes, interesting," said Graham distractedly, "Look, I have to go talk about work a bit with Rob. Don't move a muscle. It's not safe out here."

Selo was exasperated. He was a full thirteen years old- an adolescent! Yes, he was scrawny and short and probably passed for an eleven-year old or maybe even a ten-year old. And he was lacking in the physical department, too. But he was intelligent- a basin of knowledge! It didn't matter that he cried when he got smacked in the head with a softball last year in the grubby schoolyard. It didn't matter that he spent most of the time frolicking alone in the school corridors. Everyone clustered around him to see his intricate artwork and exceptional grades, and THAT was accomplishment. After all, he didn't want to end up like an idiot, right?

This is probably why Graham, a stereotypical, sporty and muscular dad, never approved of his. Sure, he was a caring guy who embraced him and hugged when he was younger. When he was younger… the very words sent a pang through Selo's heart, a deep, deep longing inside of him. Mom. _Where is she? _The divorce had occurred three years ago. Selo remembered Karen Olson's face, a rosy red and streaked with tears, stumble out the door, blinded by her foggy glasses. Mom, who was sooo smart, and strikingly pretty with her braided brown hair and dancing green eyes. Mom, who treated every problem, no matter how hard, as a challenge to be overcome, but was always such a hopeless klutz.

When the two parents had parted, dad had said, "Labor, son. She doesn't understand what it takes. You need to be fit and ready for anything. You need to have a prepared mindset. Sweat and hard work- that's what'll get you far in life." But Selo hadn't believed him.

Now, in these devastated remains of what used to be civilization, Selo began to cry. He ran, as far away from the memories, his dad, his stupid weakness. Tears stung his bleary eyes and he couldn't see, but he didn't care. He didn't care at all. He just needed to start fresh. Find some orphanage willing to take a him. At this point, his dad would never find him. Nobody could.

The idea pulled him up short. Was he really lost? He blinked tears out of his eyes and gazed around him in shock and horror. Not one soul was in sight.

_No,_ he thought. _No, no, no. Where am I?_

Promptly, Selo collapsed into utter blackness.


	3. Chapter 2: Ravings from the Past

**Chapter 2: Ravings from the Past**

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on the "Bloons Tower Defense" series, which was developed by the site "Ninja Kiwi." All credit for the game concept goes to them, and I absolutely do not intend to infringe any of their copyright rights.

The car ride had wearily dragged on for what seemed like months. Selo already had several splitting headaches accumulate in various parts of his brain. But once the beat up mahogany jeep rumbled into the ruins of North America, the agony was erased. Selo had cheered- only to be roughly dragged out by his father, causing him to yelp with surprise.

"Remember. This isn't a vacation. Rob and I are on a very important work trip, so I expect no disturbances from you. Is that clear?" said Graham coldly. Selo flinched. Graham seemed to realize that perhaps he was being too severe because he let out a heavy, breathy sigh and gave Selo a quick hug. It wasn't one of those embraces you wanted more of. It was brief, distracted, and awkward. There was no flaming passion between father and son as this hug was exchanged.

_Now,_ Selo reflected glumly, _I wish I could get that hug a million times more._ He was alone now. After waking up from his blackout, he had whimpered for a long, lingering time, but nobody had come to his rescue.

Not only did Selo distrust his father but he let him down in the middle of a work trip. It was unbearable, a crushing weight that exhausted Selo to a point where he could only stare at his haunches.

_Selo, Selo. Things may look impossible, but just use that big, observant brain of yours!_

The voice flooded into every cell of Selo's brain and every particle of his heart, giving him a burst of renewed energy. It was his mom's voice. He jolted upright and took stock of his surroundings. Yes, this was the desolated city of Chicago. He had read it on a historical pamphlet when he approached the entrance to the ruins. Eagerly, he had scanned the whole thing from head to toe. The technology-nuclear weapons, lasers, and experimental guns that could shoot at thousands and thousands of meters per second were so vast and overflowing with sheer power. These were weapons of mass destruction- burning skyscrapers, blasting bridges and hospitals, and causing waves of humanity to scream… with their bloodcurdling, white eyes, shocked beyond belief…

Yet the historical sources stated that the bloons defeated humanity, bottlenecking the population to under a hundred million. One red bloon had rapidly mutated and multiplied from the Yellowstone supervolcano, causing havoc across the planet.

His father tried to pull him away. He sincerely didn't want Selo to absorb this dark, terrible knowledge. But Selo was fascinated. Sure, he wasn't interested in dying people or mass graves. But still!

Chicago had fought back the overhead flying blimps with massive troops of military men and women, but to no avail. The sinister Massive Ornery Air Blimps and Brutal Flying Behemoths were unstoppable, tearing through the city like a threshing machine.

Selo buried his face in his hands and folded over his body. His body began to retch, the acrid smell of smoke and melting ceramic causing his eyes to water. His whole body shuddering like a leaf, Selo bent over and vomited. Surely he would die here without any water and no sign of life.

He would have to retrace his steps back to the cluster of tourists huddled together beside the most shocking and breathtaking site in this whole region- the collapsed Sears tower. It was monstrous- an endless building piercing into the deep blue sky. When the tower collapsed, there were thousands of fatalities.

Just as he stood up, a putrid yellowish, stringy piece of tumbleweed slammed into Selo's face. He grinned as it tickled his face, but his grin turned into an astonished gape when he noticed a piece of paper crumbled beyond recognition encased inside. Frantically, his excitement swelling up in every molecule of his frail body, he tore through the tumbleweed. Now he was doubly eager to return to the crowd! He would yell, grinning: "Hey, look at what I found!" and everybody would trip over their own feet to rush over to him. They would squeal with revelation as they pore over the war document and one would declare, "This belongs in a museum! Hoorah for Selo Olson! This outburst would bring a round of cheers.

The mere thought made Selo beam. He daintily uncrumpled the moldy paper and frowned. Huh. This wasn't a document regarding the war, created by an official, despite the fact that those were the most common finds from the war. No, this was the ravings of a madman. There was only one paragraph that Selo could comprehend properly.

'_I come here to warn you all. Our bloontonium detector has picked up a signal of another red one, hidden in Lake Michigan. My general thinks it is an error, claiming that these "primitive" pieces of technology we have developed during the war never operate correctly. But I do not believe him. The red bloon will start another war, this time in our devastated world. Humanity may cease to exist. Search Lake Michigan, before the bloon mutates and multiplies. You are our only hope. Use the package here. I think the genetic egg has hatched by the time you pick up this warning, so it should be born. We call it the Dart Monkey. Feed it and nurture it. Don't let it die. It is the only thing that can win the next bloon war._

_-Colonel Aaron_

Selo just stood there, mouth agape. He knew that he needed to make a break for Lake Michigan, equipped with food and water and everything else he needed. His father would think the idea was ludicrous. Selo felt a pang of guilt. He would have to ditch Graham again, and let him down in the process. For the last three years Selo had been desperately trying to establish a bond with his father to no avail. He didn't care how angry he was at him for making his mom disappear. He just wanted somebody to love him.

But first, where was this monkey? Apparently, it has "hatched," not like monkeys are supposed to do that.

_Well, _Selo reflected glumly, once again staring at his haunches, _I guess the monkey got lost, and the world is going to end._

But he refused to believe it. Somewhere, he knew that monkey was hunkering down in a rock and coaxing bananas out of a tree. He would find it for humanity.

_For humanity_.

He trudged back to where he last saw his father, his face downcast. He almost collapsed with relief as he saw the smoking remains of the Sears Tower. He ran, panting rhythmically, but he didn't make it far before he almost ran right into a young (not younger than him, though)- and intellectual looking girl. Her auburn hair tumbled to her shoulders and the curve of her jaw was… well, perfect. He couldn't help but to think that she was ravishingly hot. She had her hands cupped around something the size of a tennis ball. Selo lifted his gaze just slightly. There was a long, fresh looking scar on her forehead. He couldn't imagine what kind of animal inflicted the wound.

She gave Selo a long, searching look. Her eyes locked onto the paper that Selo was now gripping with a clammy hand.

"Well," she mumbled haltingly, "I'm not sure, but I think I have something you're looking for. This _thing_ and I clearly have quite a history together."

She unclasped her hands and tentatively brought her long arms forward.

Inside, with pearly, brown fur, was a monkey.

Selo grinned.


	4. Chapter 3: The End of the War

**Chapter 3: The End of the War**

**DISCLAIMER: **This story is based on the "Bloons Tower Defense" series, which was developed by the site "Ninja Kiwi." All credit for the game concept goes to them, and I absolutely do not intend to infringe any of their copyright rights.

Colonel Aaron scratched his red beard thoughtfully. With his clock-precision fingers, he began to check the machines- the hardy diamond studded drill, the world's last missile launcher, and most important, the bloontonium detector, which emitted a dull grey glow.

"Colonel, what in the world are you doing?" the General laughed heartily. He was a man in the fifties and plump, but that didn't do anything to make him any less intimidating. Capable of barking out an order that could make your ears bleed or mercilessly slaughtering any traitor; the General was a loaded machine gun with two arms and two spindly bird-like legs.

Aaron didn't know his name, but some called him a Ninja.

"Well, say there's a bloon that could still pose the threat to the remaining population of humanity we're hiding, so-" but Aaron was sharply interrupted by the General's next outburst.

"SILENCE! The bloons have relented. We saw the BFBs fly off as soon as we fled underground. For all they know, for future generations to come, we'll still be cowering in the Earth so they can never attack us again! We may not have won the war, but we know it's over!" the General bellowed exasperatedly, pounding the control panel with each phrase he uttered.

"Yes sir." Aaron muttered. He continued with his work of providing the necessities to the people underground. Families broken apart by the bloon onslaught, shivering violently in the dark coal mines in the Appalachia. Aaron had visited the coal mines and was taken aback by how the darkness seemed to suck the oxygen out of the air. Yes, there were a few dimly lit bulbs lighting up the living spaces, but Aaron knew it would be horrifying to curl up and hide down there. He was now sitting in a brightly lit control room, feeling rather guilty.

Ah, yes, the great hiding of 2041. The Yellowstone eruption had belched out one little red bloon in 2027 that began to multiply rapidly. The astounded scientists at the sight were quickly slaughtered as the bloons scattered. Thus, this started the 14-year long Bloon War, or as some people may call it, World War B. Now, the military organized a major concealment that would theoretically preserve the human population. It worked. Now, the dishevelled men in this control room were wrapping up, preparing to live permanently in the mines itself, where they'd be out of harm's way. Aaron was so anxious; he resisted the urge to vomit more than a few times.

The bloontonium detector glowed red. Aaron widened his eyes in horror.

"General, look!" he urged, "There's another bloon under Lake Michigan! It'll be like Yellowstone! Another war! Another war!" The words tumbled out of the wide-eyed Colonel so fast, he wasn't even sure if the General had heard him properly.

"Eh?" the General's furious outburst was so imminent; Aaron wanted to cower in the mines himself.

Aaron's voice shook, "Well, shouldn't we finish it off before it multiplies?"

But instead of bursting into another furious onslaught, the General one again laughed heartily. This time, you could really see the corners of his mouth lift, the lines moving in waves from his mouth. He really thought Aaron was going berserk. He slapped the Colonel on the back.

"Look, the water's been saturating our primitive detectors. We saw that with our Bay of Mexico bloontonium detector. It kept showing us that there were swarms of bloons like wasps, but when we came there, not a rubbery beast in sight! See, the water breaks it down! Short circuits it… logic- my dear Colonel!" the General chuckled with glee.

"But that was saltwater… we've seen the effects of salt dripping into the detectors during our tests, sir!" Aaron protested. He knew he was pulling at strings now.

The General just shook his head with distaste and walked away, gazing intently at the monitors.

While his back was turned, Aaron messily scribbled on a soiled piece of scrap paper, put in a petite, luminous egg, shoved it in some tumbleweed, and let it fly through the wind. Westwards.

_You're our only chance,_ thought Aaron mournfully.

As an afterthought, Aaron crossed over to the tangled machine in the corner of the room, copper and gold wires sticking grotesquely out of it. It read "Communicate with the Future (EXPERIMENTAL)."

With a tentative, shuddering finger, Aaron pressed the waxy yellow button.

Years into the future, Selo's phone rang.


	5. Chapter 4: Alliance

**Chapter 4: Alliance**

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on the "Bloons Tower Defense" series, which was developed by the site "Ninja Kiwi." All credit for the game concept goes to them, and I absolutely do not intend to infringe any of their copyright rights.

Selo froze in his tracks as the continuous rings from the radiated from the telephone. He cringed in anticipation as he pulled out the metal device. Surely his dad wasn't calling him already? He knew he would be scolded once again, his father's voice like acid. But when he caught a glimpse at the big, bold words reading "Unknown Number," he huffed a breath of relief.

Ten steps ahead, the red headed girl noticed the slowdown and shot Selo a questioning look. Selo gave her a sheepish smile and waved her on. He knew only a select group of friends and family knew his number, but not his mother. Graham was sure to change his cell phone number after the tragic divorce.

He pressed the answer button.

"Hello?" came a gruff, gravelly voice. It was a tough voice, but Selo noticed something underneath it. Fear.

Selo took a deep breath. He was always adept with words and comfortable around most adults, but his voice still shook as he spoke, "As you may know, adolescents like myself do not feel comfortable speaking to an unknown caller. So if you'd please, could you state your identity?"

"Okay, identity to come," said the man without a hint of exasperation. He was patient. "But first, what year is this?"

The few muscles that he had tightened in Selo's body. He had heard about the technology back in the early twenties- right before the war- which nobody in his time could get a handle on, but not time travel.

Noticing the silence, the man piped up, "I'm not actually physically in the future. It's the year 2041 here; it's only the signal that's coming to your year. Maybe a few years before your parents were born, if the estimates are correct" There was a chuckle on the line. "I honestly didn't expect a child to be the keeper of the egg. Anyhow, back to my question: what year is it?"

Selo fumed as he spoke- he wasn't pleased with being called a child. "2081," he said with a stiff, wooden voice.

"Okay, that's good. The bloon hasn't multiplied yet, but I thought it was going to be 2080. Less time than I thought." There was a pause- then, "Well, my name is Aaron. You should know the name because I rigged this up to be sent to the keeper of the monkey, so you got the letter. Right? Right?" his voice was overeager in excitement, as if he was smiling about Selo's newest revelation. The caller was Colonel Aaron. Selo could barely contain himself.

Suddenly, he heard a slam on the other end. Then, a booming voice, not the same as Aaron's. This one was icy cold as oppose to Aaron's reassuring deep, "If Aaron contacts you again, ignore him."

The call ended abruptly.

As Selo stuffed the phone in his overcrowded pocket (consisting mainly of peppermints), he glanced ahead and saw the girl he met earlier, with a look of disgust plastered to her face.

"Why not get back to your parents? Shouldn't be looking for you?" Selo asked, panted as he caught up.

"I told them I'd be gone for a while when I found the monkey, and I still have my phone with me. And besides, if you're going to save the world, you might need a confidant," came the reply. Selo had caught her up on Aaron's letter earlier, before the call.

They introduced themselves. Selo came to know Brooklyn- or Brook, as she preferred to be called- a feisty older sibling of two younger rambunctious brothers. A child of a curator of a museum (her father) and one of the leading doctors in the world (her mother), she was certainly not lacking in the intelligence department, which Selo liked. Better to have a team that compliments each other.

A question pulled Selo up short, "Hey, how come you knew that the monkey was to go to me? It's like you knew what the paper in my hand was."

Something flashed in her cerulean eyes. Panic. But she blinked it aside and strode on.

_Well, that's peculiar. Better not to eat her though. _Selo decided not to question her again. For now.

The hours dragged by wearily as they made the hike to the general store neighboring the ruins. It has a modest, small little brick building.

In an attempt to break the silence, Selo began to list off the things they needed out loud: "Food, water, clothing, maybe a tent set, and scuba diving gear to get to the bottom? I don't know. And there's no way we can pay for this stuff."

"Don't worry, I got it covered," Brook said, flashing a MasterCard. Selo watched admiringly as she paced forwards on her long legs, confidently picked up a few items, and paid up without blinking an eye.

Selo examined the items carefully. "No scuba diving gear?" he asked grimly. She shook her head, her lips pursed together. As an afterthought, Selo looked down at himself. His clothes were covered with a thin layer of yellowish grime. "Might need to change," he uttered.

Moments later, he walked out of the change room, refreshed in a white cotton shirt and tan khakis. He guzzled water and intently nibbled on a strawberry. The tart juice quickly flooded his mouth and he puckered his tongue. He easily killed five minutes by staring out at the waters of Lake Michigan, when he spotted a commotion out of the corner of his eye. A tomato (or maybe even eggplant) faced man, barreling straight at him. His dad.

"Run!" he yelled at Brook, who also seemed entranced by the lake (in reality, she was trying to figure out how deep the lake was and waiting impatiently for Selo). _Don't let him catch me. He'll take me to a foster home. He must be mad- so mad…_

Brook stared in confusion at Graham for a few seconds before finally jolting to action. Despite their best efforts, the more athletic Graham was catching up to the two whizzes. Soon, he would be on them.

"Keep running! I'll surrender to him!" screamed Selo in a ragged voice. Brook didn't listen. She spun around, a focused and purposeful look on her face, and batted her purse into Graham's cheek. She must've had tons of coins setting in there because he got a dazed look on his face.

His dad stopped abruptly and glared menacingly at him. He pointed accusingly and roared, "Selo Alex Olson, I'll never let you rest easy if you don't come here this instant!" As an afterthought, he clutched Brook's neck in his meaty hand. She began to struggle and gasp, flailing in his cage of arms, but to no avail.

"Dad!" Selo shrieked, surprised to find his voice, "This is a family matter!"

"Oh, the police are after you," Graham said harshly, "Disappearance? That's a crime, you know." He looked triumphant, as if he'd scored a hit.

"Attempted murder!" Selo retaliated, his ears turning a bright magenta, the same color as Brook's face.

His father dropped Brook, who sagged into a heap on the reddish brown ground. "Like the police will believe you," he muttered.

The muscular man walked into the mist, only to be replaced by a four-wheeler. Selo hastily sidestepped off the road and beamed. He had a memory of his mom riding around in a similar automobile- yelling, "Woohoo!"

Only this four-wheeler was headed straight towards the clump that was Brook.


	6. Chapter 5: Life Underground

**Chapter 5: Life Underground**

**A/N: Let's break up the hiatus here, shall we? Time to continue this story, and we shall see if the world will survive! Dun- dun- DUUUN! Eventually, I might make these Author's Notes less scarce if I feel the need (namely if I want to elaborate something).**

**DISCLAIMER:** This story is based on the "Bloons Tower Defense" series, which was developed by the site "Ninja Kiwi." All credit for the game concept goes to them, and I absolutely do not intend to infringe any of their copyright rights.

The idea struck Selo like a thousand lightning bolts striking Benjamin Franklin. He began to move his arms before he made the decision to even do it. This was probably illegal- but hey, he'd get credit for saving a teenage girl, right?

His scrawny arms moving like a threshing machine, Selo seized a mirror from the oversized beige backpack he always carried and reflected the light of the July sun- straight into the ATV driver's eyes! The frantic driver swerved his vehicle off the asphalt and careened into a cluster of bushes. Selo felt a moment of triumphant, but quickly dropped down into his own little circle of bushes to avoid detection.

You could imagine the driver's surprise when you stood up (uninjured, fortunately) to the sight of a hyperventilating young woman in a heap on the road. Okay, _this _was bad. Now the guy was going to call the boys in blue! Sure enough, the frazzled red bearded man slid his crude (pretty much all the remaining technology was crude after the war) cell phone out of the pocket of his black jeans and began to punch in numbers.

The perspiration-coated man was just about to caress the "call" button when Selo came barreling out of the bushes onto the road.

"Oh my god!" he shrieked. He turned on the man. "Did you do this?" Selo demanded, striding towards him.

Unfazed, the man replied, "She was already down on the ground when I drove by, I figure. Then a light got me swerving off the road." he gestured towards the four wheeler, which had fallen on its side. A bit of debris littered the ground.

"You figure?" Selo put on his best fake glare. Before the driver could respond, Selo barked, "Off you go! She's with my party, and I'd bet you she's pretty darn alive." A laughable statement, considering there was no party- just him and her. The man was more than happy to leave the scene.

It took three minutes of soothing talk from Selo (which he certainly wasn't good at) to get Brooke to breath normally again. She claimed she had asthma, so she suffered doubly from the attempted suffocation that Graham had performed.

Putting on a wry smile, she asked, "Where'd you get the mirror?"

The mirror- it was a fine one with a real bronze circle running along the circumference. It had been Selo's last gift from his mother before the divorce. Most of her employment had revolved around mirrors. You see, humanity didn't actually leave their underground "cellar" until 2063, a handful of years before Selo and Brooke's birth. This meant that the adult generation that was currently living on planet Earth had been born underground.

And now readers, we shall take a rendezvous to the 2050s- the heart of the Great Hiding. Everyone was underground with a limited amount of supplies and next to no light sources. There wasn't much space, either, seeing as there weren't many miners or excavators left alive to clear out the area. Imagine the fear and claustrophobia!

As the years wearily took their course, things got better. People organized meals and employment with military precision. People were given the job of "Excavator" by the hundreds. The jobs of the light-workers were however, arguably the most extraordinary. Mirrors and lens were put in place meticulously in order to flood the vast caverns with light. By the time the engineers announced that it was safe to emerge to the surface, the entire population of the underground refuge had flourished. The men and women were bouncing with eagerness to show their children the world above ground.

Selo proceeded to explain the job of the light-workers, but he still refrained to tell Brooke about the divorce. That was personal business. But the girl was overflowing with curiosity.

"So what's your mother doing now?" she asked.

Selo shifted uncomfortably and told a lie, "Chemist. She doesn't come home much, unfortunately."

Brooke bounced to her feet and ushered Selo eagerly over to the direction of Lake Michigan. Refreshed with new supplies and equipment, it was time to save the world! Even the dart monkey was yipping in glee. On the contrary, Selo felt that he could lie down for a millennium, but he put his fatigue behind him and trudged along.

Just as the sun set in the rosy-streaked sky, Selo saw a little sliver of blue appear on the horizon. With renewed energy, he trotted over to get a closer look. Sure enough, the gallant Lake Michigan loomed before them. Selo felt his legs wobble and collapsed onto the limestone.

"Set up camp?" he asked hopefully, looking up at Brooke with puppy eyes.

"Set up camp." she confirmed.

Grinning, Selo rolled onto his back, closed his straining eyes, and let out a loud, fake snore.

Perhaps Selo and Brooke were destined to save the world. But they're just children, and an immense danger looms just under the bottom of Lake Michigan.


End file.
